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Topic: 01.02.2133 - Temmit Wakes To The Game (Read 1800 times)

The thunder of the battle wagons was an unwelcome herald for Temmit. He hoped that he would not be participating in these games. He really wasn't the sort of warrior that one would want on the front line. The battle trainers had observed countless times that he was a bit clumsy in the din of battle, and his ability with a sword was sub-par.

Also, his 16th birthday was closing in...less than a fortnight away. It'd be a shame to miss that.

"You're time is going to come sooner or later." Smokey told him. "They looked past you three times now. The law of averages isn't on your side for today."

Temmit knew that his constant companion was right...statistically he'd be called this time. If he wasn't, then someone was preventing his call. He would have to try to find that person and thank him or her.

He forced himself to get out of bed and start the day's dregery. His stomach didn't feel like it could hold much more than toast and coffee today.

He went through his typical morning routine, with one addition: Temmit steeled himself for roll call.

While he imagined that the Protectors House was full of students high-fiving, bumping chests and cheering, the actual scene at the Scribes Dormitory was altogether different. Temmit heard anxious whispers of doom and gloom everywhere he went.

In the showers, as he sponged clean at the sink, they spoke of "chem-engines". While brushing his teeth they talked about blood powder and force-injury casts. And later, as he made his way to the Common Room for that toast and coffee, he heard more than a pair speak of Carlson Peaks.

Carlson Peaks. The Scribes member who died in the wargame just this past Fall.

By all accounts, this wargame was a rigorous and hazardous game. People died, as Carlson Peaks and Jennifer Connells had. Others came back damaged as Aimily Parks had.

Temmit could see the logic in the games, from a "you will be on the actual lines soon enough" perspective, but his recent learnings suggested pretty strongly that it was all so unnecessary. And the very people who held themselves up as the protectors of the people of Safe Haven were the ones who would throw away lives in these games, which was supposed to ready the students for a Karh'Thul invasion, which was also an unnecessary discard of human lives.

The circuit of thought made him angry, and he forced his logic back into place.

One thing that this might do is to get his clanmates killed. He needed to protect that, so in a way, it might be best if he was picked to participate: if only to keep an eye upon Whisper members and keep them from getting killed.

"And maybe to see that certain other folks *did* get killed." Smokey suggested. Temmit had to agree that suck a happenstance might not be for the worst.

Smokey's comment made Temmit think that it might bear to keep an eye on the Faithborn doppleganger, should he be picked.

Actually, I believe I revised that history and changed him to 15 years old a while back. Remember when we had that discussion? Although admittedly, I did see recently see that it said 13 on his CHARACTER page.

I will review this item when I get home from Calculus, as it bugs me. I really wanted him to be 15 prior to all this Breech craziness, and I don't anyone thinking I revised it JUST to fit into this situation.

After another hand, the time finally came to attend to his station by the door. It was a routine that had become all too familiar since the age of 5, standing and awaiting to be counted by the Resident Student of the House before being dismissed to class, but today, it was different. For the first time, the simple task contained a real element of danger.

A Sergeant in the ranks of the real military entered the hallway as Temmit stood at his door. As expected of him, Temmit stared straight forward at attention and didn't reflect any emotion in his face as a few of the kids in the hall were drafted for duty prior to him.

Finally the sergeant reached his point in the hallway.

He skipped his roommate.

As he walked past, without even pausing or even looking at him, he pointed at his chest.

As was expected by Temmit, the students that filed out of their dormitories for the blessed event typically went to the closest wagon to join their friends from their own house.

The wagons themselves had always impressed Temmit in their size and engineering. Their was over two dozen wagons, he had learned that each of them was capable of transporting two dozen shoulders. Instead of wooden wagon wheels, like on merchant carts, it had rolling tracks that was made of studded metalic plates (like an army tank). This feature alone made them incredible vehicles for the snow.

The horses which pulled the wagons were a special breed. Massive horses that were 19 to 21 hands tall, each of them a muscular, large-hooved specimen that towered over student and military man alike. And each wagon was pulled by 8 of them.

The wagon itself was a completely enclosed wooden wagon with a fluted chimney at it's center, behind the drivers seat. An open door of the wagon closest to the Scribes door invited Temmit in. But Temmit stopped and looked around for familiar faces, since the few military men posted outside were apparently not assigned to rush them along. (At least not yet anyway).

River Quintell of the Clergy House (which is three blocks away) stepped into view from Temmit's left and almost immediately found him. He was making a straight line towards him and Temmit guessed that he was River's quest for that moment.

As River approached, Temmit, whose inadequate uniform was begininng to allow in the dreadful cold, stepped aside from the wagon and out of possible earshot of anyone.

Just before reaching him, River looked about and verified that there wasn't any interested onlookers.

"Somehow I knew that fate would catch up to you this day lieutenant," River said with a serious tone. River was one of the most trusted guardians of the guild, and Temmit had a lot of respect for the quiet soldier of Whisper. Temmit noted that River carried his sword and shield, and that one observance indicated to him that River had been selected for the day.

Nope, all kids are in their "full dress" student uniforms which includes their leather armor, shield, sword, etc. but without the cold weather gear. This is because the wagon ride is a long and very warm one. When all students arrive at the western expanse, the wargame site, they will receive gear.

"I checked, Marcus Faithborn is enjoying the festivities as well," River said knowingly. While they talked River looked away as if disinterested in the actual conversation, a common ploy by the member of the Whisper guild. He rarely looked at a fellow member while in public.